Solace
by EllieRose101
Summary: A vivid dream. An earnest plea. Acceptance. (Set during Season Six.)


Dawn woke to the sound of screaming.

Jumping out of bed, she traced the sound to Buffy's room, passing Willow in the hall as she approached her sister's door.

With shaking hands, she turned the handle and found Buffy sat in her bed with the covers pulled all the way up to her chin; her knees pulled tight to her chest.

She'd stopped screaming, at least.

"Buffy?" There was a tremble in Dawn's voice. She couldn't help it. Why did everything bad happen to the people she loved? "What's wrong?"

"What happened?" asked Willow, as she joined Dawn in the doorway.

"Get Spike," Buffy told them, tears running down her cheeks. "I need Spike."

"Now!" she practically screamed when they didn't move. Then, taking a breath, she said again – in a small voice, this time - "Please, I need him. Will you get him for me?" She avoided their eyes.

"Uh, sure," said Willow, exchanging looks with Dawn. "I'll call Xander. Tell him to swing by the crypt and pick him up."

"Good," said Buffy. "Hurry."

Dawn shut the bedroom door again.

* * *

Spike barreled into the house and up the stairs without caring how it might look.

If Buffy had asked for him – no, _demanded_ him – it must be bad.

If this had happened on another night he might have played along with the usual farce. Heard the order be given and hot footed it back to his place so he could be there in time for Harris to show up. Not tonight, though.

Spike had been paying careful attention to Buffy this week. Checking in on her twice as often as he usually did, all too aware of the tang of tears hanging in the air around her home.

* * *

Willow had the phone halfway to her ear when the front door opened, rendering her task pointless.

Looking to Dawn, the Witch found silent affirmation that she saw it too. Three seemingly simple facts laid before them:

Buffy and Spike must be back together.

The Slayer still wasn't dealing with her resurrection as well as they thought.

All hell was about to break loose.

* * *

Buffy sensed him as soon as his foot hit the bottom step.

If she'd realized he was close by and could already hear her then she wouldn't have involved her friends. But screw it, they'd find out soon enough anyway.

The bedroom door swung open once more, and in he walked, slamming it behind him again.

He was by her side in moments, but the wait still felt too long.

She reached for him, holding on for dear life.

* * *

Spike held his breath as she clutched at him.

He didn't know why she needed him now, exactly, but he was pretty sure he could guess.

"Bad dream?" he asked, his voice conveying a portion of the ache he felt for her.

Buffy nodded against his shoulder, her tears seeping through the thin fabric of his tee.

"The recurrent one? 'bout bein' buried alive?"

The motion changed to the negative. He'd guessed wrong, but he'd been so sure.

"Heaven," she said, before he had the chance to guess again. "I was in heaven."

 _Oh._ Oh, god!

"Buffy." He held her more tightly as she dug her nails into his back, no doubt searching for the most solid thing she could cling to. And she'd come to him. Chosen him as her rock. He was honored, really.

"You said if I needed anything. God, that was so long ago. And I know I shouldn't ask. I shouldn't…" she pulled back a little in his arms to study his face. To look again at the cuts and bruises she put there with her fists. "I'm sorry." A sob choked her. "I'm so sorry!"

Spike opened his mouth to provide soothing words. To tell her that it was okay, that it didn't matter, or that it was all in the past, but what came from his lips instead were the words that he couldn't help but release. They built up in him, spilling out anytime there was an opportunity.

"I love you, Buffy. I love you."

"I know," she told him. "Thank you."

Thank you? The reply startled him but he tried not to show it. It may not be the traditional response, but he'd take it over a punch to the face.

"Stay here," she said, to his silence. "Please?"

He nodded his assent.

What a daft bint? Like he could possibly go anywhere!

"Always here," he told her.

"Good," she closed her eyes and finally let her body uncoil.

There was another stretch of silence for a while, then she asked, "How is it that the only time I ever feel anything – the only time I have solace is when you're here?"

Spike didn't answer, but Buffy was beginning to think she had figured it out. That maybe she knew the answer all along.

Maybe she'd even tell him, someday.


End file.
